Saturday
by sharingank
Summary: For the first time in a long time, Haruhi slept in on a Saturday. MoriHaruhi.


Ohhh MoriHaruhi. My love overflows. XD This was written for a contest with a 900 word limit, which is why it's short, so I apologize for that. Otherwise, I hope y'all enjoy!

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**Saturday**

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On Saturdays, despite the fact that most sane individuals enjoyed to sleep in, Haruhi rose early. She had been doing so since she was a little girl, because her father worked late and she took it upon herself to make sure all the household chores were completed. Once the members of the Host Club discovered her habit, they gave her grief for it—well, it was more like Tamaki and the twins gaped at her in horror while Kyouya looked on impassively and Honey offered her a piece of cake.

The only one who didn't react either way was Mori. He seemed quite unsurprised, and Haruhi thought nothing of it until club activities finished for the day and he winked and ruffled her hair on the way out.

After that, she started to think.

And he gave her a lot more to think about. A brush of fingers on the back of her neck. Whispered words in her ear. A discreet glance from across the music room. Strawberries on her saucer. A kiss in an alcove…or two…or three…

Sometimes, she truly believed Mori was as calculating as Kyouya.

But he did get what he wanted in the end.

This particular Saturday, she had been lying awake in bed for about a half an hour—she wasn't feeling the greatest, and she didn't sleep much—when the special ring tone that alerted her to text messages went off on her cell. Raising her eyebrows, she rolled on her side and reached an arm out to grope for the phone on her nightstand.

_Good morning_ was the message that awaited her. Sitting up fully, she couldn't help but grin. _Morning_, she typed back, and pressed the send button, a bit curious as to why he would be awake right now.

A few seconds later, the phone rang for real. She flipped it back open and answered.

"You should be sleeping."

"So should you." In the pause that followed, she could almost picture the expression he was wearing—concerned, lips turned slightly downward at the corners. "Your voice is hoarse."

"I started losing it yesterday," Haruhi grumbled, drawing her knees close to her chest. "I _hate_ colds." As if on cue, she sneezed loudly and forcefully, and her eyes watered. She wiped at them, her temper flaring when she noticed the wads of tissues—used—that littered the floor. None of those would help her, and neither would the empty box she held up and peered in before tossing it aside. "So why are you awake, again?" May as well just come straight out and ask.

"Because you are," he said promptly.

Haruhi blinked. "What?" Maybe she could recycle one of the old tissues…

"That's why I'm awake."

Switching the phone to the opposite ear, Haruhi leaned over the edge of the bed and began sifting through tissues, nose wrinkled at the prospect. "Because I am," she said.

"Yes."

Haruhi blew at a stray piece of hair that had fallen into her face. "Where's the logic in that?" She sneezed again, and even more hair fell into her face. This time, she left it alone, and debated—very, very briefly—begging him to come over and coddle her. Ridiculous, of course. She didn't _need _coddling, and she only conceived these silly notions when she was sick, anyway. Besides, her father would fuss and hem and haw as soon as he woke up, and by then she'd be all coddled out. So. First priority, find a passable tissue. Second…act like a functional human being and do her chores.

Takashi made a 'hrmph' noise on his end. "It's simple. I'm up so you don't have to be."

About to snatch a promising candidate for closer inspection, Haruhi froze mid-grab. "Oh? I really wish you'd—"

She heard a light tap on her door, and then it slid open.

"Get to the point," he finished for her, still talking into the phone. His eyes danced as they met hers, and he showed her the smile that he saved for her alone, the smile that made her insides turn somersaults and tied her tongue in awkward knots. He cocked an eyebrow. "Fishing?"

Haruhi's mind had gone temporarily blank. "Um…"

His shoulders gave a little jerk, an indication that he was battling laughter. "Come on. Lie back down." It took a mere three strides for him to travel from the doorway to her bed. Removing her phone from her hand, he snapped his own shut, pocketed them, and scooped her up as if she weighed no more than a feather.

"But…my father…"

"He knows." Takashi deposited her in the correct place, drawing the sheets and comforter to her chin. "Don't worry. We arranged it last night. I'll be doing everything you would, so rest now." He smoothed the hair from her forehead.

"I can't…you can't do that, Takashi," Haruhi protested feebly, rather irritated at her father for not warning her. "It's—"

He covered her mouth with two fingers. "Yes, I can." And that was the end of that. He exited quickly and returned carrying a fresh box of tissues and a small garbage bag to put the old ones in, promising that he'd check on her frequently.

"So you'd better sleep, understand?"

Oh, she understood.

And, for the first time in a long time, Haruhi slept in on a Saturday.


End file.
